


Blood Is Thicker

by AD_Sunshine16



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: ( eventual sexual content ), Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, IDK it was a bunch of ocs my friend's and I made and I begged them to let me add everything here, Implied Sexual Content, Italian Mafia, MOBS AND MURDER AND ROMANCE OH MY, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Murder, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Poverty, Russian Mafia, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, get attached or don't good luck mate, it's the first time I've ever really done this and followed through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AD_Sunshine16/pseuds/AD_Sunshine16
Summary: Should the life and times of Al Capone be prevalent in today's age, it may go a little something like this.With many different stories from different angles of the nitty, gritty times from the height of the roaring 20's to the suburban housewives of the 50's placed right into our every day setting; People pushed to the edge and beyond for the sake of love and pride, dimple faced politicians making deals for the devil's in themselves, families you best not blink twice at, and those few who will do anything to uncover the truth.





	1. FALL; Business Begins in New Orleans

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo hey!!  
> So to clarify, each chapter will be of a different character or characters and be of a different story line- all of which are happening at the same time or in the same time span. The individual stories will cross paths at different points within the whole timeline and by the end there will be a chart of who-knows-who!  
> There are deaths and gore and abusive situations, both stated and implied, at different points overall some ranging from mild to hey hopefully I emulated Stephen King!  
> MANY MANY of the amazing characters (because they're his and that's why they're amazing) belong to Needs_More_Lesbians !!! I would highly recommend his work, especially if you like his characters! I will list them when they are introduced at the start of the chapter and pray I do them justice!! Thank you again to him for letting me use them!  
> Now that the rambling is done, please enjoy! Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated!!

“You have outdone yourself this time, Ma Mari.” The room was thick with the scent of smoke, years of it having soaked itself into the walls of the old home. Dating pre-Antebellum, history poured throughout the halls like the silky red liquid that flowed from bottle to the glass that shimmered in the low light. The young woman smiled lightly to her husband, crimson taut and poised on her lips as dark hued eyes took in the sight of the man who filled out the chair.  
He was of the older status, balding and starting to obtain those telltale liver spots, the definition of an elder playboy with a penchant for gluttony. Monsieur DeBou was known in his ring of profession for taking wives on the younger side of the spectrum to suit his fancy, and with his status and flashy rings he had the whole of New Orleans to pick from. This time around, he picked a young lady with finely tanned skin and hair like that of a confectioner's perfected dark chocolate. Tall and fit, Acelyn was a simple choice to make and easy to brag about, as well. Not once did Mr. DeBou forget to brag to his assailants that not only she was a dime piece, but a rescue, having been the one to save her from an unfavorable life of trailer parks and corner jobs.  
Acelyn closed her eyes a moment, thickly coated eyelashes overlapping like the teeth of a castle gate to block out the heavy cigar smoke that her husband heaved, before opening them once more to focus on her pouring of the wine into his glass. Once it was filled to satisfaction, she sat the bottle back onto its icy throne of a bucket and walked the length of the table back to her seat across from him, heels click click clicking against the polished wood of the floor. Carefully, running her hands over her underside in habit to smooth her skirt as she sat, she took her place across the long dining table, having to sit perfectly upright to see him over the lavish plates full of food on the table.  
“Hardly. The deal with the Collinsworth family was just the beginning.” His voice piled into the room in layers of crisp fall leaves,his hands coming to rest on the edge of the table like an antsy child, fingers tapping just out of reach of the utensils. His eyes managed to land on his young wife across the table, a hint of a tilted grin on his face.  
“Oh?” A perfectly manicured hand brought a glass closer to her person, not yet lifting off the table, but teasing the idea just enough.  
“We get the Magnolia son sick, then the Collinsworths take out the rest of the family for the broken engagement, and it’s easy pickings for us.” The man laughed to himself, satisfied in the plan he had made for his neighboring competitors. The Magnolia family held most of the agriculture on the northern half of two states not too far from Louisiana and held a prominent positive position with the people. The Collinsworth family saw fit to marry off their daughter, combine the two legacies, oil and property were profitable as well, to the eldest Magnolia and stomp out the DeBou’s under their sharply shined heels; that was until they found out the Magnolia’s were slowly losing ground. But word was word, and they couldn’t do anything about it, but the DeBou business, however….  
Acelyn arched in her seat, hand slipping under the glass to cup it in her palm and rest her elbows on the table. She raised a brow with an easy tease and even easier smile as she stared down the table at her partner. “Ma Mari, you really do think of everything,” Accent heavy in her lilting voice as she slipped in and out of her mother tongue. “You deserve a good night’s rest after so much being on your mind. C’mon, let’s eat.”  
At her words, a belting laugh of agreement echoed from the man and he grabbed his cup with far less grace than his company for the evening. He raised it with gusto, lifting it in the air, and eyeing the dark haired woman until she gently lifted her own. “To the joy of living!” Mr. DeBou downed the glass heartily before grabbing his fork in one hand and knife in other, cutting the slab of steak on his plate with much enthusiasm. Acelyn kept her glass at half mast, watching him dig into the meal before him with great patience. Four bites, five, six bites in, she watched with taut crimson on her lips as his feast continued on and time ticked by.  
She looked to the watch on her wrist with growing boredom, the nightly ignorance from him no problem at the moment; and it was certainly no problem when a loud thud came from the end of the table causing her to jump just slightly. A small chuckle left her lips. Fifteen minutes, on the dot. Chaser was right after all. Acelyn looked up at her now late husband laying face first in steak and mashed potatoes, the off yellow fluff molding around his face as if to fill in the spaces where hair should have been.  
Acelyn rested her back against the armchair in which she sat, taking in the scene she had painted before her, and swirling the glass of wine in hand. It was ridiculously simple and how none of his previous excursions had found the gaul to do this before, she would never know, nor would she ever truly care. A symphonic smile was now roaring on her face, teeth trapping the canary in its cage as she, too, lifted her glass into the dying smoke in the air and firmly crossed one leg over the other.  
“Joie de vivre.”


	2. FALL; Seating Charts and Science Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CADENCE HEWITT BELONGS TO Needs_More_Lesbians PLEASE GO READ HIS WORKS DO IT YOU WON'T REGRET IT

It had been an unusually warm fall in the Chicago area, the leaves clinging to the branches like baby birds scared to fly, scared of their own change in color, and it was the lack of maple leaves and fallen gold in the entranceway to the school that helped lead the students to believe-now more than ever- that the freedom that had come with fall break had been cut far too short. Treks through linoleum halls and into FeBreze ridden classrooms were bad on their own, but walking into a freshly reorganized setting with a blasted seating chart plastered to the front of the room had to be even worse. As students groaned and filled the room, one student paused in front of the board.   
A small sigh escaped her as she filed past her old seat and towards the back of the room. Though she wasn’t very fond of her old partner, she appreciated the view her front seat had when it came to taking notes and now, with her new partner and a seat far from any reasonable line of sight, the fact that she would have to alter her method did not bode well. The girl reached the obsidian topped table and cleared her throat lightly to draw attention away from the bit of nothingness her new partner seemed so intent on staring at. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad, she had never interacted with him before, so there were plenty of chances for something to go right...and just as many to go wrong. A tad on the scrawny end, a softer shade of blond, and with dark rimmed glasses framing green eyes that gave off just a hint of the anxiety everyone felt at the switch of seats, the girl felt that perhaps he really wouldn’t be so bad to work with. “Hey, I’m, uh, I’m your new lab partner. Mind if I take a seat?”   
In retrospect, asking to sit where she was rightly supposed to was a weak conversation starter, but it got the job done, right? The boy looked her over in turn, light brown hair, blue eyes, and an expensive sweater that seemed three sizes too big for her; he, simply, gave a nod and turned his back to her to retrieve his supplies. Silence was not a favorite thing of the girl’s, but it answered her question in it’s own way and that’s really what mattered at the moment.   
Slipping into her seat, she repeated the action that he had begun and set up the perimeters for her new classroom border. Pencils just so, papers tucked neatly into corners and lined up just right, distance between her and her new partner almost enough to fit a third person. Her seat was now clean, proper, respectable. She sat back in her seat a moment, looking over her side and then his with a mild care before turning to him, struck with the notion that she had yet to introduce herself to her new lab buddy. The girl gave a soft smile as she turned her shoulders to square herself to the lad. “I’m Alyssa, by the way.”  
“C-Ca-Cade-” He had opened his mouth to speak, but his throat seized the words as they attempted to slip by and out into the air. Eyes closed and brow creased as he gave a sigh, making up his mind as to whether or not he should even attempt again. “C-Caden-” was all that he allowed himself to croak out before flattening his lips against one another and keeping them that way, lifting one arm slightly into the air and gesturing towards the teacher who now stood at the front. Role call seemed to be his savior from the embarrassment he had just brought upon himself. If he listened hard enough, he could hear his father’s voice all the way from his home demanding for him to either speak up or shut up. He tightened the line of his lips.   
Role call did come, the girl- “Alyssa Scotts?”- raised her hand a few moments after the boy did in turn to- “Cadence Hewitt?”- still a bit puzzled and concerned for her new partner. But the concern did not last long as the teacher called for homework, break long assignments, be pulled out to be collected. Almost instantly, panic set into the girl’s chest like a stab to the heart at the dreadful realization that she had done none of the required work. Even so, frantic flipping through her notebook occurred, chest heaving and pulse increasing so much that she could hear the rampant bum bum bum of her blood in her ears.   
She hadn’t done the work. She hadn’t done the work and, now?, there was no way to undo the mistake she had done, no way to make up for the time she had lost, the time she had spent on her own enjoying the sunlight and smooth autumn air. She would fail on the first day back and it would be all her fault, no teacher could ever respect a student that could not even listen and it was with this notion that her eyes locked dead and blue on one of the blank sheets she had all but torn in her search for something that would never be there. Her grandmother would be made aware. Her grandmother would see the mistake. Her grandmother would make certain that it would never happen again.   
In her frenzy, Alyssa had no time to realize her partner had caught on to her worry. He recognized the panic, had felt the same heave in his chest, and knew that whatever was running through her mind was something he could not talk her out of. His eyes landed on his own work; it was simple, read and define the highlighted portions, and he had done it to escape being trapped on the couch between his brother and father as they screamed about fouls and touchdowns, something he could never get behind. It wouldn’t kill him, would it? He had, by now, grown accustomed to the shouting and the screaming. He had, by now, come to expect it no matter the occasion. So, by now, one yelling match would be no problem, right? Quickly, he erased the fine print of his name out of the top corner and scribbled in hers, sliding it to the front of the desk.   
Soon enough, the teacher came by and Alyssa was more than ready to explain herself but was stopped short, caught in confusion as to why the teacher complimented her on her handy work before leaving. Eyebrows knitted together as she turned to look at her deskmate, Cadence already leaning over his paper and scribbling out the work pages from the board.   
“You can’t do that.”  
The young man looked to her with a raised brow.   
“Cadence, I can’t take your work. I have to go up there and tell her. It’s not-”   
He held up a hand and shook his head once. Finite. They both knew that if she was to tell the truth that they would both get in some form of trouble, and neither really wanted that. She slowly took in a breath to steady herself, the booming in her ears beginning to decline. Gently, she placed a somewhat clammy hand on his jacket covered wrist, squeezing lightly. His eyes widened at the touch, grown unused to contact and baffled to a degree that she had spoken to him at all, let alone do what should be a common action. He looked to her, and she smiled. “Thank you, I owe you one.”   
He smiled back, and shook his head.


End file.
